Children are the Devil

Sometimes when my boss is in a good mood she’ll pretend like we’re friends and she’ll offer me advice. One of her favorite subjects is my child-free lifestyle.

“If I can offer you one piece of advice, it’s that you should have kids,” she says to me.

“Nah, I’m not really sure kids are for me. There are too many things I want to do,” I try to say politely.

“Yes, but really. You’ll be missing out on something really special if you don’t have kids.”

Yeah, that’s easy to say when you don’t have to take care of your own fucking kids, I think.

I’m sure kids are tons of fun when you only have to see them a few hours a day and someone else is there to deal with all their tantrums. However, that will not be the case for me. If I get knocked up I know for sure who will be taking care of the end result: Me.

Why is there so much pressure to have children? I don’t understand it. Aren’t there already enough screaming brats in this world? Aren’t there enough people out there who STILL don’t seem to know what birth control is? Why do I have to join in? So I can be as miserable as them? No thanks.

My reasons for not wanting kids remain solid:

1. I hate children: I think this is a pretty strong reason in and of itself, but let’s go on.

2. I’m selfish: I hate the thought of having to always think about another person and putting them before me. There are too many things I want. I don’t want to give that up for some ungrateful sniveling brat.

3. I’ve already raised six kids. Being the oldest girl in a family of nine tends to make you never want to have children.

4. I’m always poor: Until I can find a way to fund my own life, I don’t think I should bring another person into the equation.